At the Water's Edge
by Chevious
Summary: We last met by the water’s edge as we watched the sun set on our time together. Fate took you away from me, and seems to have brought us back together again. But things have changed. I have changed. -Rating subject to change-
1. Author's Note and Disclaimer

**_Disclaimer_**

I don't own Jack Sparrow or his ship and crew. I own Constance, the Soleil se Levant and its crew, and the story line.

**_Author's Note_**

This is my first Pirates fic. I'm kind of excited about it, so please let me know what you think. Reviews would be great, even the bad ones as long as they're constructive. I really want some feed back, cause if no one likes it I will cease to write it. I was trying to branch out from my norm slightly. Here goes!


	2. Promise to Return to Me

**_Author's Ramble #1:_** This is my first attempt at a PotC fic. I hope you all like it. All constructive criticism is welcome.

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"Jack! Slow down!" the little girl shouted as she sprinted up the hill, feet slapping against the loose cobblestones. Her golden locks flew out behind her as the wind rushed through them. Her glacier blue eyes glinted dangerously as she approached the crest. 

"You are too slow, Constance!" the boy shouted back as she approached him.

Constance collapsed on the ground before him, her breathing coming in short gasps. She peered up at her Jack, slowly taking in his appearance.

Jack wasn't a small boy for his age. He was actually quite tall for a ten year old. His wild, raven hair was tied back by a ragged ribbon. His dark eyes seemed to be laughing at her expense. His sun darkened skin made him appear to be a native of the island, though he was born and raised in Britain until he was seven. The white cotton shirt he wore blew about him, revealing his thin frame. His canvas pants for that of a sailor, tattered as if he had worked on his ship all day.

Finally catching her breath, Constance said, "Why did you bring me up here?"

Jack smiled and sat down beside her. "Look," he answered, gesturing to the scene before them.

The sun was setting over the open water of the sea, casting hues of orange over the sails of docked ships. A calm breeze blew through the trees below, causing them to sway slightly. Shadows fell across the streets below as tall buildings loomed over them. Constance's eyes widened in amazement.

"Wow," she sighed, still taken aback by the view. "This is beautiful."

"It's my favorite spot to watch the ships come into the port."

He was silent for a long time, leaving Constance to ponder the situation that would soon present itself.

"Jack," she began, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen over them. "When will you be leaving this place?"

"When I sign on with a ship," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Will you forget about me?" Constance looked up him, sincerity and sorrow filling her eyes.

"Never." He smiled down at her. "You're one of my best friends. Why would I forget you?"

"Will you come back for me some day."

Jack looked at her for a moment, slightly perplexed by her statement. His countenance softened when he saw how serious she was. "When I become a great sailor, I'll come back for you."

"Promise me."

He laughed, "I promise."


	3. We Meet Again

**_Random Author Ramble #2_**: These first two chapters are a lot shorter than originally intended. They just set up the rest of it anyway. Read and Review please. I want to know if I should continue.

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_20 Years Later

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_

Jack Sparrow sauntered along the docks of the port of Kingston, once again looking for a ship. The hot sun beat down on his darkened skin with no sea breeze to relieve the heat. Sailors moved up and down the boardwalk lunging cargo from ship to ship. Merchants busied themselves with inventories list, vigorously noting the slightest errors in the merchandise.

He stopped near a small schooner at the end of the dock. Across the darkened, weathered wood of the starboard side was the words _Soleil se Levant_. It was the only ship along the dock that wasn't a buzz with activity. In fact, it appeared to be deserted.

Jack strode forward, eager to sail once again. He had lost his previous ship to his first mate during a mutiny nearly five years ago. His hand brushed against the pistol within his belt at the memory of his treason.

Aboard the ship, Sparrow made his way to captain's quarters in search of all that glittered aboard the ship. If he was not going to succeed in commandeering the ship, he would at least find some treasure for the taking.

He pushed forward a heavy wood door to reveal a slightly lavish abode. Rich fabrics of the orient covered the furniture, painting the room with bright hues of red and blue. A large table covered in parchment stood before the panes of glass over looking the ocean.

Jack strode over to the mahogany desk and began looking through the papers. The documents were filled with calculations of treasure shares, inventories, and maps marking the locations of more treasure. A broad smile curled across his salt dried lips.

The clicks of a loading pistol rang in his ears as the cold metal of the shaft was placed against the back of his skull. Jack froze, parchment falling from his fingertips.

"Well, well," a feminine voice mocked. "What have we here?"

Jack turned slowly, trying hard not too move too much. His dark eyes met with two icy blue orbs, reflecting nothing but malice for the intruder. The woman that stood before him was fairly tall, though still shorter than he. Matted, golden curls spilled over her shoulders from under the ebony cloth about her head. Her white, cotton shirt was stained from years of laboring on the ship. Her dark canvas breeches hung long on her thin waist. Sea salt and other substances of the deck covered her sun kissed skin. Her callused right hand held the pistol level with his nose, her thin fingers curled around the trigger. The other rested on the hilt of her sword.

"Just a humble sailor who got on the wrong ship, love," Jack replied smoothly, staring down the gun barrel. "Why don't you just put that down. We could go have a drink and both leave this port alive, savvy?"

"You are not in a position to be giving me directions, good sir," the woman stated, a tone of mockery filling her words of caution. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't shoot you right now."

He was silent for a moment. "Parley!"

The woman seemed dumbfounded for a moment. "What did you say?"

"Parley!" Jack smiled, realizing that he would live for now.

She lowered her pistol, her threatening eyes looking him over. "A pirate, eh? What's your name?"

"I am the famous Captain Jack Sparrow." He gave a slight bow.

The woman looked perplexed for a moment, appearing to be unsure about a reaction. She quickly recovered, a glint of softness in her eyes now. "Mr. Sparrow, is it?"

"So you have heard of me." Jack smile, his gold teeth glinting in the sunlight filling the room.

The woman's eyes hardened again as she took a stride toward him. She was now inches from him. He hadn't met too many female pirates in his experience, but whenever he came face to face with them again, he knew what we coming.

Her palm fell across his cheek with a sharp crack. Jack spun about from the impact, and found himself once again at the receiving end of a pistol.

"You wanted to speak with the Captain, didn't you?" she spat. "Come on, then!"

Jack was lead out of the quarters at gun point. His chance at living to see another day shrinking before his eyes like a ship sailing away into the sunset.


	4. Thrown Together By Fate

Author Ramble #3: Wow! I'm glad to see people are liking my story. Though the plot may seem obvious right this second, its changes a bit later on. So stay tuned to find out what's going on. Anyway, back to this chapter. They are slowly getting longer as I go along. The second was actually 2 pages long, but they always seem shorter upon posting. This one is three. Hope you like it. Thank you for the wonderful reviews and encouragement I have received so far. It is very much appreciated! I luv you all!

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Jack strode reluctantly toward the wheel of the _Soleil se Levant_, attempting to concoct escape plans with every step. A pistol still pushing him along seemed to serve as a warning against such plans as it dug into his lower back. 

At the helm stood a lanky, middle aged man dressed in fine captain's attire. His scraggly, graying beard was riddled with tiny braids and random beads. His icy emerald eyes gazed out over the open sea. Voices high above them shouted order in preparation for casting off. Men ran skillfully along the sails as well as the rigging.

"Captain Morel," his captor announced. The man turned to face them with a military like spin on his heels. "This scalawag was rummaging through your quarters."

The captain took several steps forward, boards creaking beneath his polished boots. He paused several feet before the pair, his cold eyes examining every inch of Jack.

"Who are you?" Morel inquired, his blatant French accent dripping from every word. He was surprisingly well spoken and his English proved he had been on the seas of the Caribbean for a long time.

"The Captain asked you a question," the woman exclaimed, pressing the barrel of the pistol into his back a bit harder than she had been.

"Captain Jack Sparrow, sir."

"Welcome aboard my fine vessel, Mr. Sparrow. I see you have already met my first mate, Miss Dean."

"I guess you could say that," Jack replied, a nervous smirk turning up the corner of his mouth.

Morel turned to his captor, and they began to ramble on in French, obviously getting the details of Sparrow's capture and giving her orders. Her pistol was lowered and returned to his place on her waist.

"I apologize for her horrible manners, but you were in a place you shouldn't have been, Mr. Sparrow. Now what shall I do with you?"

"I could dispose of him for you, Captain," Dean proclaimed, her nimble fingers wrapping around the hilt of her sword.

"Not in port, Dean. I have taught you better than that!" Morel looked back at Jack, appearing to ponder the situation presented to him. "What a predicament you have placed yourself in, my good fellow. Miss Dean!"

"Aye, Sir?" The woman stepped up beside Jack and stood at attention, awaiting her orders.

"You will tend to Captain Sparrow until I decide his fate."

"But Sir!" she protested.

"_That's an order!_ You attend to his every request until that time. He is a guest on my ship, and I expect him to be treated as one."

"Aye, Sir," she replied obediently with great reluctance.

"She will show you to your quarters. Now, if you will pardon me, I must attend to the voyage ahead."

"Come along, Sparrow," Dean ordered, already half way down the staircase leading to the lower decks.

Jack followed the first mate through a maze of corridors below the main deck until finally reaching a small cabin several floors down. Water was trickling down the wall opposite the door spontaneously as the ship rocked in the wake of others. An ivory hammock against the wall, swinging in rhythm with the ship.

"This is your chamber. My own is with the crew down the hall. If you require anything, Mr. Sparrow, please hesitate to ask." Dean turned on her heel and started to leave.

"Are you in a hurry, Miss Dean?" Jack questioned.

Dean faced him once more, placing her hand against the doorframe. "Yes, I am."

"And why, I wonder."

"I have developed quite a disliking for you, Mr. Sparrow. I do not enjoy hanging on the whims of those out of my favor."

"Is that so? Its quite obvious from your reaction to my presence in the Captain's quarters. However, the question is...why do you dislike me so?"

"I'm sure that is you review your own recollections, Mr. Sparrow, you will find the answer all on your own." Her eyes were now emitting an icy glare of loathing. "If there are no other inquiries, I will be attending to my regular duties."

"Just one," Jack answered, swaggering toward her with a suggestive glint in his eye. "I have a 'whim' for you to attend to."

"And what could that possibly be?"

Jack's eyes lingered over her voluptuous figure for a few moments before meeting her gaze once again. "Will you join me in a bit of fun later?"

Dean's annoyed continence flushed with outrage. Before he could react, Dean's pistol was pressed against his abdomen. "If you don't watch your tongue, Mr. Sparrow, you will find yourself with quite a lovely singing voice. Am I being clear enough for you?"

"Crystal," Jack replied, fear flowing over his face.


	5. A Perplexing Clue to Her Name

**Author Ramble #4:** Y'all might as well get used to these being at the beginning of every chapter. I like to chat it up! LoL! Just skip it if you don't care to read this ramble. Anyway, I'm very proud of myself for cranking out so many chapters in such a short span of time. Its amazing what comes out of writer's block toward another fic (aka The Past Doesn't Forget) and procrastination toward one's term paper. I'm glad you all are enjoying the story so far and I hope you approve of this chapter, yet another short one. You'd have to be quite clueless not to figure the identity of Dean, but I'm sure there is at least one of you out there. It will officially come out soon, if Jack doesn't figure it out himself, being as daft as he is.Dean may seem slightly out of character, but it won't last long. I swear! Enjoy.

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Staring out over the open waters of the Caribbean Sea, Jack contemplated Dean's words to him. _'Why do you dislike me so?' 'I'm sure that is you review your own recollections, Mr. Sparrow, you will find the answer all on your own.'_ He had been probing his memories tirelessly since that moment. He leaned against the railing leisurely, listening to the waves crashing against the hull of the ship as it glided through the water.

"Shouldn't you be below deck, Sparrow!" Jack was pulled from his thoughts abruptly by the unwelcome loathing, commanding voice of Dean.

"I was under the impression that I was Captain Morel's guest," he replied, staring into her spiteful blue eyes. "That implies that I'm am able to be on deck."

Jack turned back to the sea, returning to his thoughts. An awkward silence fell over the pair. Jack was trying to remember all the female pirates he had come into contact with and how he could have possibly down to anger them. It was quite a short list of woman, though many possible causes for anger.

"Have you still not figured out the reason for my hatred of you, Jack?"

He was shaken from his thoughts once more. Not because of her question, but because she had used is first name. He looked up at Dean, who was now positioned beside him, leaning against the railing. Her expression had softened slightly. Jack even believed to have caught a slight hint of a smile.

"'Tis proving rather difficult. I've haven't met enough of your lot to gain this much hatred in one meeting."

She laughed. "My lot? Are you implying that you don't meet many women? Your reputation must be a lie, Jack."

Jack's eyes met her own. They seemed so familiar to him, yet so puzzling. Beyond the vindictive facade, her eyes revealed a comforting warmth he had yet to notice. Those icy pools of raw emotion seemed to longing for him, pleading with him to remember her.

"Allow me to refresh your memory." She paused, breaking their eye contact, and looked up at the clouds overhead. Jack listened intently, gladly accepting any assistance in the game they seemed to be playing. "We last met by the water's edge as we watched the sun set on our time together. Fate took you away from me, and seems to have brought us back together again. But things have changed. I have changed."

Dean looked back up at him, finding some amusement in his dumbfounded reaction. "That was many years ago, Jack. Remember that sun set, and I promise you will find the reason for my hatred."

A small smile crossed her face as she pulled away from him. "Think about that," she muttered as she made her way up to the quarter deck. Jack couldn't help but stare after her, still quite baffled by the woman's ramblings.

"How the bloody hell was that supposed to be helpful?" Jack spat, trying to decipher her clue.

Jack turned back to the serenity of the water, trying to clear his head and think once more.


	6. His Fate Upon the Ship

**Author's Ramble #5:** Wow! Its hard to believe I'm up to Chapter 5 already. My fingers cry for relief, but my brain tells them to keep going! Damn will power! Anyway, to the great happiness of many, Dean will be back to her old self this chapter (much to Jack's dismay). Is Jack so thick that he hasn't figured out her identity yet! Guess you'll just have to find out! (evil grin) Dean has no plans of letting up on him again anytime soon. Again thank you for all the support. I'm glad you are all enjoying my first PotC fic. Without farther adieu, here is Chapter 5. Enjoy!

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"_Will you forget about me?"She looked up him, sincerity and sorrow filling her eyes._

"_Never." He smiled down at her. "You're one of my best friends. Why would I forget you?"_

"_Will you come back for me some day."_

_Jack looked at her for a moment, slightly perplexed by her statement. His countenance softened when he saw how serious she was. "When I become a great sailor, I'll come back for you."_

"_Promise me."_

_He laughed, "I promise."_

Jack woke with a start, nearly falling from his hammock as he bolted upright. Regaining his balance, he fell back against his pillow in thought. _What an odd dream..._

"Time to get up, Sparrow!" Dean now familiar, commanding voice ordered as a wet cloth was hurled at his head. Jack sat up and looked at her in defiance. Her eyes narrowed in response to his rebellion. "Don't think I would want you awake, you slimy sea dog! The Captain wishes to have a word with you."

Jack tossed the rag aside and rose from his hammock, stretching away any pains in his back that had developed in his sleep. He strode lazily toward the door, but was stopped by Dean's arm as she extended it into his path.

"We are going to need that," she pointed out, nodding in the direction of the rag that lay abandoned on the worn oak floor boards.

A bit confused, Sparrow retrieved the cloth and followed Dean up to the Captain's chambers. Intoxicating scents of roses and spices filled his nose as they entered. Morel sat behind his desk, quill racing back and forth across the page before him. Incents burned in a gold platted bowl beside his ink.

"Bon soir, Captain Sparrow," the aged Captain greeted, setting his quill in the ink bottle. "I trust Miss Dean has been treating you well?"

"Well, actually," Jack began, but, upon having a pistol shoved into his lower back, he decided to change his words. "Yes, quite well."

"Good, good. In that case, shall we get down to business?" Morel rose from his plush armchair and strode around the desk to face him. "You have been with us for a weeks, and I have finally decided what to do with you." He paused. "I was going to maroon you, but you had not tried to kill me."

"Quite right!" Jack agreed, relieved that he wouldn't end up on another island.

"Then, I was just going to have Dean kill you, but you hadn't taken anything from me."

"Pity," Dean muttered, replacing her pistol at her side. "I would have enjoyed that."

Morel chuckled. "Quite a fiery one, isn't she?"

"So it would seem," Jack agreed, still awaiting his decided fate.

"I found her hiding in the brig of a ship we had attack about ten years ago."

"Fifteen, sir," she corrected.

"Ah, yes. Thank you. That scrawny, thirteen year old girl reminded be so much of my own daughter, Rebecca. I took her under my wing, and put her on the account. The men took to her overtime. A damn good pirate, she is. I remember her first attack-"

"Sparrow's fate, sir?" Dean interrupted, crimson rising in her cheeks.

"Oh, yes! Well, Mr. Sparrow, I have decided that you will be leaving us at Tortuga. Until that time you are to work the decks."

"Thank you, sir," Jack replied, bringing his hands together in a praying gesture. "Thank you."

"Dean," Morel exclaimed. He started spouting off orders in French to his first mate as Jack attempted to catch a few words here and there.

"Aye, sir!" She clicked her heels to attention and marched to the door. "Let's go, Sparrow!"

Jack made one more gesture of thanks toward the Captain before following suit and exiting. On deck, the moon was already hanging high amongst the stars like the glass orb of a lit lamp, burning brightly over head. Crew member were lighting lanterns along the masts while others were dancing in the middle of the deck to the joyous sounds of a fiddle.

Dean was already joining in the festivities as Jack approached the group. She kicked her feet out in time and swung around arm-in-arm with a large, burly sailor twice her size. The man threw her petite frame into the air, to the crew great delight, and caught her inches from the ground Another crew member lead her now in a mock waltz. She laughed with delight as they twirled about. Jack watched her with great interest. _What a puzzling woman!_ She had so many different sides to her that it was hard to keep track.

Jack decided enjoy himself as well, taking his turn to dance with her. Dean ceased to laugh as her took her hand, placing the other on her lower back. She glared at him as the other men laughed at her discomfort.

"Loosen up, love," Jack exclaimed, smiling seductively as his hand began to travel downward. "Try to enjoy yourself!"

As his hand grabbed hold of her rear, Constance pushed back suddenly, knocking Jack off balance. Before he could react, twenty pistols were aimed at his head while several swords threatened to cut off his hands and slit his throat.

"Becoming a eunuch will be the least of your worries if you try that again, Sparrow!" Dean spat, fury burning in her eyes as she turned and disappeared below deck.


	7. Out of the Darkness

**Author's Ramble #6:** Okay, so on another edit spree, I revamped Chapter 6. I really didn't like it before. This one is much better, slightly longer, and quite important to the story line. I've gotten a lot of reviews commenting on how much everyone loves Dean. She is one of my favorite characters to write. She is definitely up in my top three. I've also received a comment on how thick Jack seems. Let me tell you, I quite agree. 'Tis time to bring the hero out of the dark, savvy?

PS: to RoXySuRfEr12 - I take French in high school (French 3, w00t w00t!), so only basic stuff will appear in this thing. Thanks for asking...

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'_Promise me.' _The phrase still rang in Jack's ears as he mopped the deck. He had been having the same dream over an over again. With each vision, his companions face became clearer. It was a small girl of eight or nine, possibly younger than he at that moment. 

The sun had risen high above since the beginning of his labor, now beating down on the laborers of the Soleil se Levant. No wind or ocean spray can to relieve their suffering. They slaved away in the intense heat as sweat droplets formed on their skin.

"Sparrow!" Jack rolled his eyes in annoyance as Dean's voice cracked across his ears. "Don't slack off, or you may find yourself sleeping with the sharks!" He listened as began to walk away. "Dominic! Promise me you'll have the repairs done by sunset!"

Jack froze. _'Promise me.'_ He listened more intently to their conversation now.

"I'll try, Miss Dean, but I can't make any promises," responded a large man that was quite obviously a native of the islands. Jack recognized him as the one who had been tossing Dean about the night before.

"Promise me!"

"I promise, Miss Dean."

Jack's eyes grew wide in realization as he watched Dean disappear into the lower decks. He abruptly abandoned his mop and stealthily follow the unaware first mate. She turned a corner and entered the quarters she shared with the crew. Jack trailed close behind. He froze just inside the door, watching as Dean disarmed herself, back toward him.

"Constance," Jack mumbled, the name flooding from his lips before he could stop them.

Her pistol was beneath his nose, anger flaring in her eyes. Jack took a step back in shock, mentally noting to quicken his reaction time.

"Easy there, love," he exclaimed, pushing her pistol to the floor.

"Imbecile! Never sneak up on a pirate!" She tossed her gun into the trunk beneath her hammock. "What do you want, Sparrow? A lesson in proper deck swabbing?"

"No." He began to pace, his eye contact not breaking. "I think I've got you figured out."

"Do you really?" Her mock enthusiasm dripped from every syllable. "Please, explain me."

"It's quite simple, Constance," Jack began.

"What did you call me!" Dean was serious now. Her eyebrows furrowed and her mouth hung slightly ajar.

"That is your name, isn't it? Constance." She remained silent, so he continued. "You were that little girl that used to follow me around when I was a boy. I made some silly promise to a miserable girl in order to make her feel better. When that promise was not fulfilled, you got angry and began to hate me. Am I right?"

Dean was silent for a moment. Taking in all that he had said, she began to clap her hands. "Bravo, Jack. It only took you a month to figure it all out. Bravo."

Jack was rather pleased with himself for a brief moment, but it soon faded with the awkward silence that had fallen between them. The woman still puzzled him quite a bit.

"I despise liars, Jack," she continued. "I really used to adore you, but now I only see you as a liar. There is no grudge against you for not remembering something so trivial as a promise from twenty years ago. The fact that you lied to me about your return, that is the cause of my hate."

"Interesting." Jack's thought's shifted to more pleasant ideas. "Well, love, what say we put all this behind us."

Dean smirked. "Sounds reasonable, Sparrow. What did you have in mind?"

_Back to Sparrow again?_ Jack took a few steps toward her and smiled seductively. "We could go have a few drinks with the crew or have some good fun here."

"Some fun, eh?" Dean appeared interested as she looked him over. "And what would be your idea of fun, Mister Sparrow?"

They were quite close now, no more then an inch between their bodies. Jack's hands came to rest on her toned backside and he pulled her against him. She gave him an enticing smile, allowing her hands to trace over his strong arms and remain on his shoulders. Jack leaned into to steal a sweet kiss from her lips.

However, much to his dismay, her knee contacted his groin in one swift movement and he fell to the ground in agony. Dean bent down, a dangerous fire in her eyes.

"Did you _really_ think it would be _that_ easy, Sparrow!" she hissed. She rose and strode out of sight, leaving Jack to his pain on the floor of her quarteres.


	8. Redemption in Her Eyes

**Author's Ramble 7:** Out of shear frustration with my paper, I decided to break and write a chapter. My brain is severely cramping. LoL. If I see one more book on the French Revolution within the next hour or so, I will scream! Anyway, on to the writing. I present to you yet another short chapter involving Jack and Dean. We're coming to a close on the voyage quite soon, but will their story end there? Not telling you! MWHAHAHAHA! Guess we'll just have to see.

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"We should be reaching Tortuga within a few days, Captain Sparrow," Morel informed Jack as he paced the deck of the ship. "I believe you have repaid me for your deed. The rest of the voyage, you may relax."

Jack ceased mopping immediately. "Much thanks, Captain." He gave a small bow. "I will be of no further trouble in a few days."

"Quite," Morel sighed. "You are dismissed."

Without a second thought, Jack retired to his cabin, ecstatic that he would no longer have to work. He laid in his hammock, thinking over his previous confrontations with Dean. Now that he looked back on it, her hatred of him was fairly justified.

"So I hear you'll be leaving us soon." Dean leaned lazily against the doorframe.

"Looks like it."

"Good riddance," she spat with less venom than expected. She entered the room and sat atop a truck Jack had been using. She rested her back against the wall, closing her eyes and sighing.

He watched her for a few moments. He hadn't really noticed how pretty she actually was. She seemed to have washed away the ship's grime from her hair and skin. The bleached gold of her hair seemed to glow white hot in the flickering light of the candles in the room, most likely blinding in the light of the sun. Her sun kissed complexion seemed warm and enticing as opposed to its usual course and disgusting appearance. Her figure had fully blossomed since their last meeting on the hill in above the port of Nassau. Quite a tempting specimen to any male on looker who happened to be unaware of defensive abilities, and even some of the aware.

"I'm sorry," Jack whispered.

Dean looked up at him, dumbfounded by his sudden apology. "Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry, Constance." Jack looked away from her, fighting to keep the naughty ideas out his mind in order to seem sincere.

She was silent for a moment, eyes locked on his face. "I forgive you."

It was his turned to look up, completely blindsided. Had she just forgiven him? Had it been that easy all along? Constance's lips broke into a warm smile, seeming to brighten her expression. She rose from her place and strode toward him.

The world seemed to move in slow motion, as if it were a dream. Dean stood over him, the glow from the candles silhouetting her figure. She bent over him, her surprisingly soft lips brushing against his dry skin. The next moment his lips were on his in a passionate kiss. The world stopped. She pulled away slowly, staring into his eyes.

"Jack," she cooed. Jack groaned in response.

"Wake up, Jack Sparrow." Her voice was becoming louder and more demanding.

"I am awake," he mumbled absently.

"_SPARROW! GET YOUR MANGY ASS UP OUT OF THAT HAMMOCK!" _Her commanding voice rang in his ears like the bell announcing the change of shift.

Jack fell to the floor of his cabin. Dean stood menacingly over him, tapping her foot inches from his face. He sat up, rubbing the pain from his side.

"_About time, Sparrow! Get up off the floor! There's work to be done!"_

She dropped a rag on the top of aching head and disappeared from sight. Jack removed the damp cloth from his head and started at the doorway. _It was all a dream?_


	9. A Note from Frustrated Writer

**Author's Note to the readers**

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I'm sorry to say that I've come to the conclusion that I despise how this fic is going. I don't think it's very well written and the plot has veered slightly off course (and not in a good way). So, unfortunately, I won't be continuing this fic at the present time. To those who do like it, never fear! Around the end of June check back again. When I finally have time to concentrate on writing, this is one of the fics at the top of my list. I apologize for this inconvenience and, for all those on author alert for this story, possibly giving youfalse hope of an update. It will be fixed and on a roll again this summer, I promise. For now, however, I guess readers and fans will have to wait for the conclusion. The story will return, better than before. Until then, happy reading.

_A depressed, writers block stricken Chevious_


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